


Some are Artists (Others are Art)

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Series: soft wwii boyfriends [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amputation, Art, Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes-centric, Canon Disabled Character, Coping, Disability, Disabled Character, Drawing, Embedded Images, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, In a way, Kinda, Loss, Loss of Control, Loss of Identity, Loss of Limbs, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Physical Disability, Post-Loss, Prosthesis, Teacher Steve Rogers, Teaching, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: "Buck, I don't care if it's a fuckin' stick figure with an arrow that saysSteve. This is the first time you've drawn in, what, seventy years?""Pretty sure this is the first time I've evenpicked up a pencilin seventy years."





	Some are Artists (Others are Art)

**Author's Note:**

> (hhH i've been done w the writing part of this fr a while n i wanted to post it w art but the draft is gonna auto-delete soon so here it is w just the writing; i'll upload the companion pieces later aa,,,,,)

Steve had always drawn Bucky when they hung out together alone. Back at their apartment in Brooklyn, he'd had a stack of notebooks and pieces of loose paper with sketches of his face. Nothing special, he'd thought at the time. Just doodles. Scribbles, really. He'd nearly gone red with embarrassment when he realized that they were all on display at the Smithsonian's  _Captain America_ exhibit. He didn't even remember drawing most of them. (He must have had a fever when he drew that page filled entirely filled with his eyes and lips. Yeah, that'd explain it.)

Bucky had always known about it. He'd flip absently through the pages when Steve was especially sick, hoping and praying that these weren't the last; that there would be more when he got better. It wasn't because they were of him, but they told a story that he couldn't. They'd grown together, and so had Steve's skill. He laughed when he found them at the museum. He remembered the late nights he'd spent worrying about skinny little Steve, and how Steve's boney fists had made harsh contact with his arms and back when he'd found out Bucky had been going through his stuff. (He'd barely left bruises.)

"That a new notebook?" Bucky smiled as Steve pulled a tiny composition book and a pen out of the pocket of his jeans.

"Yeah, just getting started." Steve tapped the eraser against his lips. "What'd we watch last time I was here?"

"The new Star Wars."

"Right, right." He scratched something out and gently bit the metal ferrule, not even enough to leave dents. "Anything specific you wanna watch?"

Bucky shrugged. "Not really. Kinda just in the mood to sit around and be a lazy sack of shit."

Steve laughed. "Okay, how 'bout some music?" He leaned back over the arm of the couch and fumbled to grab the tablet resting on an end table a couple of feet away. "I think you'll like Nirvana."

"Isn't that some kinda spiritual enlightenment or something?"

"Yeah, but it's also a band." He scrolled through the selection of music until he found a suitable song, then tossed it down by his feet where Bucky was sitting to pick up his notebook and pencil again. 

"You gonna draw me?"

"Maybe," Steve teased with a smirk. "Don't worry, I'll make you look a lot sexier than you do in real life."

"How generous," Bucky drawled. He picked up the tablet and set it on the coffee table. "Mind if I draw you, too?

"Aauh, yeah. Sure." Steve sat up a bit and reached for the backpack he'd brought with him, where he kept his regular notebook. He passed it off to Bucky, along with another pencil, who held it awkwardly in his right hand.

"Alright," Bucky laughed, "this isn't gonna be very good."

"Buck, I don't care if it's a fuckin' stick figure with an arrow that says  _Steve_. This is the first time you've drawn in, what, seventy years?"

"Pretty sure this is the first time I've even _picked up a pencil_ in seventy years."

"Exactly, so shut up and draw." Steve playfully kicked Bucky's thigh, eliciting a laugh out of him.

"Alright, alright."


End file.
